


Genesis

by theevilleft



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-02-27 09:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13245459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theevilleft/pseuds/theevilleft
Summary: You have powers you don’t fully understand and a fondess for a certain Winchester.





	Genesis

**Author's Note:**

> Taken me literally 2 years to write this but here’s chapter 1!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically the introduction and start of the story.

You parked the truck and grabbed a heavy duffel bag and black backpack, that once you slung over your right shoulder, made a quiet noise and unzipped a little. Accidentally slamming the door as you always did, unsurprisingly, made you jump.

The walk up the stairs was at a slow pace with one hand dragging the duffel about an inch from the floor, and the other with fingertips gently gliding up the bannister. You dropped your duffel bag at your feet to unlock the motel room door. With a small run toward the bed, you slid your rucksack down your arm and onto the floral bedding beside you. As you turned around to retrieve the remaining bag, you heard a mummer from down the stairs. The tone sounded familiar but nothing that would cause a double take. So with your back turned, you picked up the bag and walked into your room.

The mummer from below had become a muffled conversation between two men that caught your eye briefly as they walked past your not yet closed door. One was taller than the other but they both seemed on the slightly larger side. And, even being your-forever-nervous-self you thought nothing of it and soon closed the door. After unpacking your bits and bobs you sat on the edge of the bed just for a moment.

Typically you'd visited a motel without a bathtub, so a steaming hot bath was off the table. A brief look at the shower made you feel an awful lot better about your not so polished look today, and after you scraped your hair up and back into a loose ponytail, a meal was in order. The lady at the reception had mentioned a small family owned cafe down the road, which sounded incredibly appetising to someone so tired after driving. You rummaged around in the rucksack on the bed and took out a leather wallet with very little cash in. It squeezed into the back pocket of the dark wash jeans, that had clung to your long legs for at least two days now. There was a quick glass of water swallowed before you left for the highly anticipated cafe down the road. You reached for the keys in the door and took the handle with the other hand. The door swooped open and you hopped around it to shut and then lock it. Before you had fully turned the key, two men walked out of the room beside yours. One was tall with long dark hair and a flannel shirt, the other had broad shoulders and a chiselled jaw. It took a moment to look at these handsome men stood before you, but you looked the shorter one in the face and it hit you. His eyes had a familiar green sparkle and his stern look was a look you had seen only on one guy.

You frowned and stuttered a little bit as you spoke, "Dean Winchester?".

 

***

 

For as long as you could remember you were hunted, by what, you were unsure. They looked like humans but the things they could do, and the things they couldn't, had you confused. But it wasn't a curiosity you were able to pursue. Why, that you were fairly sure of. You could move things when you wanted and sometimes make people do things, abilities that manifested when you were a child. You were eight years old when objects started moving at your will, you told nobody, not even your parents. Parents that died almost a month after you moved your favourite teddy bear for the first time. A brutal death, that haunted you all your life. You only lived because your father told you to run, he screamed at you “GO! DON’T STOP RUNNING.” For a long time, you ran like he said, the people close to you always got hurt. Any time you stopped to live a normal life, people were killed, the images of them dying were still etched into your brain. You stopped having people in your life, attempting not to care for anyone else, and eventually began living alone when you were old enough to work. You still did your best to get a good education, attending school in every town but never staying anywhere more than a few weeks. Until you met him. 

 

***

 

He looked you up and down, of course taking his time in certain places. But once he reached your face he knew exactly who you were.

“Y/F/N.” He shook his head in sheer disbelief. All three of you frowned and laughed a little, a few unfinished phrases fell out of open mouths as Sam walked closer to you to give you a hug. A stronger embrace followed from Dean, still looking at you with pure astonishment.

"Sam... wow, when did this happen?" You gestured up and down his body, in awe of his incredible height.

He made a noise that suggested he didn't have an answer.

"You grew up even more handsome." A smirk grew on your face as you said it. Dean rolled his eyes, feeling something far too familiar.

"What're you doing here?" Dean attempted to pull your attention from Sam.

You reopened the door to your room, "Why don't you come in for a couple beers?" The boys nodded and followed you into the motel room. Dean closed the door behind himself, as if it were a natural reflex, shrugged his shoulders a little and sat down at the small table in the corner of the room. Sam followed his older brother and sat beside him. Neither of them said anything but as you turned away you could almost hear the look they exchanged. You walked over to the fridge and Dean watched you as you bent down to grab three icy beers from the lowest shelf. Sam noticed Dean admiring his old friend and slapped his upper arm. Dean mouthed "What?" to Sam with an irritated expression.

You sat down with the bottles now open, you handed one to Dean and then to Sam.

Dean spoke, "So how've you been?". From there the conversation bloomed with both you and the Winchesters lying about your ventures since you had last seen each other. Despite your previous relationship with the Winchesters, you were yet to know what they did for a living. Equally, they didn't know what you spent your time doing.

The pleasantries turned into heavy laughter as you reminded yourselves of memories that had been long forgotten.

 

***

 

1995... 

You were a junior at Oakland Hill High - your school for the next few weeks that you'd be there. As a teen, you had a slapdash approach to most things, but you were naturally incredibly smart and a consistent straight A student. There were a few subjects you preferred but nothing bothered you too much.

This school felt no different to any other, the halls virtually looked the same and the smell was always that bad. The lady chatting with you even seemed to have a dress on that you'd seen before. She walked you down the corridor to a busted old set of lockers and left you as you packed the few books you had into this locker. Honestly, you weren't sure if it was worth just carrying them around considering how dirty the locker seemed. Just as you slid the last book in and reached to zip up your backpack, another lady wandered around the corner with a tall young man who was virtually ignoring what she was saying. You irregardlessly tossed your backpack over your shoulder to continue your day. Before you could walk off, the boy, now placed in the locker next to yours, introduced himself.

"I'm Dean." He said with a smirk, you were almost surprised he didn't wink.

With an awkward smile, you reached to shake his hand and said “Y/N."

He looked puzzled for a split second before shaking the hand you had suggested.

You headed off to your class. "Why don't I walk you to your class?" His smirk grew much larger now.

"Don't you know you're way around, about as well as I do?" He began walking toward you. His bowed legs striding in your direction, never breaking eye contact.

“Probably, but we can just get lost together."

 

***

 

Sam and Dean continued laughing and chatting as you got up to get them, and yourself, another beer. As you reached into the fridge from behind you, you heard Dean. Without thinking you turned around and saw a man stood in the doorway. He had a strange glow about him. He was one of them. Sam and Dean couldn't have blinked in the time you grabbed the man by the neck and slammed him against the motel door. You could see in his eyes he had realised who you were. Hand ready to catch, you mover your knife from the duffel on your bed. When it reached your hand, you immediately held it taut to his neck. You could feel his breath you were so close to this man. Before you could speak, Sam shouted.

“Y/N! No."

You looked back. "Sam you don't understand..."

Unsure of what to say next, you were interrupted by Dean. “Y/N.” He spoke low and serious. You trusted Dean, yet still, reluctantly, you released him from your grip. You watched him closely as you backed away, standing closer to the Winchesters. Each person stood silently, waiting for some form of explanation.

"Sam, Dean" The man looked at them with an angry confused expression. "Do you know what this is?" He gestured toward you but made no eye contact. Dean watched you as the anger in your face threatened to burst out.

"This is Y/N, she's an old friend." You turned to Dean as if 'old friend' was an understatement.

"And who the hell are you?" You all but bellowed, gripping your knife tighter as you spoke.

“Y/N, this is Cas, he's... an angel."

"Uh, Angel?" He was toying with you. These things were all but heavenly in your mind.

"You don't know?" Sam seemed thoroughly confused. You looked back at Sam and before you could speak he continued. "But, uh... you've got an angel blade."

Still looking puzzled you gazed over to Dean. He looked back at you for a moment. He shouted "Cas, what the hell is going on?"


End file.
